Fall to Pieces
by Emo Bangs
Summary: When the blond was around, things were bearable. He could handle all the filthy words whispered in his ear or the unwanted, rough touches but when the blond was gone, he couldn't handle it at all. Major Kames, minor Cargan. See warnings inside.
1. Chapter 1

**Rating: M, for swearing, mature themes and sexual situations**  
**Notes: A lot of people wanted to read this idea (which was formerly called Forever Broken but I kinda hated that name). So I decided to write a little preview chapter to see if people would be interested in me continuing it. So let me know. On a complete side note, here is a fic where James' dad is actually pretty cool/nice. Never thought I'd write that...**  
**Warnings: Molestation/Rape**

* * *

He couldn't get it off. No matter how hard and vigorously he scrubbed, it lingered on him. Under his skin, he could still _feel_ it. It was taunting him, spewing words of vicious hate and disgust. He was dirty, repulsively so and even after his skin turned raw from his effort, he still wasn't clean. The loofah fell form his grip and the water washed the traces of his blood away. He slid down beside it, drawing his knees to his chest. He let the scalding hot water cascade over his violently trembling body. He watched a few drops of blood leak from a reopened cut and turn the water a sickly red. He felt a sob shake his body as he wondered if he would ever be clean again.

He shuffled into the kitchen, running a hand through his still damp hair; he didn't have time for his usual grooming routine, he was already in the bathroom for a suspiciously long time. Pouring himself a glass of apple juice, he sat down at the table, swirling the amber liquid around in his cup. His dad, reading the newspaper beside him, put it down and looked over at him, concern etched on his face.

"Hey, you okay kiddo?" he questioned, "You were in there an awful long time."

"I'm fine," James mumbled, wondering if that was as unconvincing as it sounded in his head. Sure, he was tired (and looked it) and lacked his usual fancy getup, his high maintenance morning routine (30 minute shower, an hour on his hair, at least an hour to find the perfect outfit) but he was a decent enough actor to play it off as no big deal. He was just tired, his slouched body language and drooping eyes said. Because it was true. He'd barely gotten any sleep last night; every time he shut his eyes, horrendous images played in his mind and the emotional scars these images left were imprinted on his skin long after he woke up. But no one knew that, no one _needed_ to know that. It was his secret, his only and he wasn't about to burden anyone else with his tragic reality.

* * *

School was the more difficult part of his charade. He had more people to fool there, more people to hide from. Not to mention Logan, always staring at him like he was the specimen he was analyzing. It got so severely under James' nerves. Mostly because he went to such lengths to hide his secret shame but when Logan stared at him _like that _it seemed like he knew, he knew everything, just by looking at him. He shook it off because there was no way Logan knew; he was way too good at hiding.

Unfortunately there was no hiding the noticeable flinch when Carlos laid a hand on his shoulder. The Latino pulled his hand away surprised and mumbled an apology. James quickly excused himself from their lunch table, unable to take Logan's questioning, worried gaze and the string of unwanted, disgusting words in _his _voice floating around in his head.

* * *

It was times like these that he missed Kendall the most. When he was sitting in the boys bathroom, nails digging into his skin in a blissfully painful way as he relived the horrible experience over and over again. He wanted Kendall back. At least when the blond was around, things were bearable. He could handle all the filthy words whispered in his ear or the unwanted, rough touches but when the blond was gone, he couldn't handle it at all. It was unbearable when he didn't have Kendall's genuine sweet words to replace the older man's slimy ones or when he didn't have Kendall's soft, loving caress to outshine the horrible, unpleasant touches the older man traveled down his body. His life was pure hell when Kendall wasn't around.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Response to this has been fantastic. You guys like a broken James as much as I do. Watch out, because I'm probably going to change the name soon. I hate it but I can't find one that fits well. This vaguely addresses whats happening with Kendall. It's meant to be vague because more will be revealed later.**

**Warnings: Molestation/Rape**

* * *

Kendall hated himself; he regretted every single day that passed since he had left. Extreme guilt nagged at him relentlessly, mocking him for his terrible decision. He wished so desperately that he could go back in time and stop himself from walking away, from leaving those who needed him most. He left with the best of intentions, having been convinced that it was for the best.

Now he was wondering if that was the honest truth. Doubt was starting to shake his typically confident, sure nature. His absence didn't seem to do anyone any good; he certainly wasn't enjoying it himself. He didn't have any friends at his new school, he missed his old friends, he couldn't _stand _living with his dad but most of all, he missed James.

His soft smile, the way his eyes shone so bright but remained so soft at the same time, his passion for singing, spontaneously bursting into song. He missed being able to inhale and breathe in all that was James, the boy's sweet scent; he missed James' head on his chest, the brunette curling up against his side. When this all became too much, he reminded himself that he did this to help James. He tried his damn hardest to hold onto that reasoning but even he was starting to wonder if that was still the truth.

_The Knight household was unusually quiet compared to its typical loud, rambunctious atmosphere. Where energy and fun once hung in the air, sorrow and worry took its place. These weren't emotions that teens their age should experience an excess of. Their time was supposed to be spent executing shenanigans and just having fun. It was not supposed to be meant on mourning; that was something kids shouldn't have to face._

_Unfortunately, there's rarely a choice behind this. Kendall would give anything to change that; he would give anything to ease the other's pain, to keep it from ever occurring in the first place. Since he knew that was impossible, he was trying his hardest to just be there for the brunette, in any way he could. _

_Apparently, to James, that meant just having a place to rest his head for a while. Things at his house were kind of tense, the overwhelming sadness was almost suffocating. He __**had **__to get out of there, despite how his house's mood seemed to match his directly. He'd rather be with his friends than mourning at home all by himself. Kendall was more than happy to provide a safe place to get away from everything for a while. _

_The pair resided in the living room, both sitting on the couch, both ignoring the TV that was playing in the background. Kendall was sitting with his back against the arm of the couch, his legs up on the cushions. James was sitting between them, his back pressed against Kendall's chest. The pretty boy was clad in a baggy sweatshirt (one of Kendall's) and a pair of loose sweats. His hair was pushed back, not as flawlessly quaffed as usually and he had on his glasses, which he only wore when he was too tired to go through his usual beauty routine. This past week had been just like this; it was a little startling to his friends and family how little effort James was putting into his appearance. It was understandable but everyone worried anyways. Kendall still thought he was absolutely beautiful, even when he was falling apart._

_On the surface, Kendall was just being the great friend he was. But this was much, much deeper than that. Kendall was undeniably, irrevocably, uncontrollably in love with James. His want to bring comfort __to the other boy was a lot different than the usual friendship motive; he felt a deep ache in his own chest when the brunette was upset. When James smiled, he smiled. When James laughed, he laughed. When James cried, he cried too. That was just the amazing connection he had to James. He never wanted to see James hurt and lately that was all he saw. He just wanted to see the brunette smile again; then all order would be restored in his world. _

Kendall shook the year old memory out of his head, wanting it gone before the tell-tale wave of guilt washed over him. It was too late, however. He could already feel his gut constricting with this horrible emotion. The worst part was that he _knew _what he did was wrong; he knew that now and he didn't need this guilt reminding him. But the damage had been done and it was too late to reverse it now. He had left; he wished desperately but ultimately couldn't go back to the way things were.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes: This chapter broke my heart a little. So you guys wanted to know why Kendall was gone, this chapter vaguely addresses that. We'll get more into depth with it in later chapters.**  
**Warnings: Molestation/Rape and Self-harm**

* * *

"Do I _have _to go?"

It was at least the fifth time Jams had asked this and the answer had been the same each time. He desperately wished his dad could see his extreme aversion to attending this event; that it wasn't hard for him to face because of his mom but for reasons much more screwed up. But he couldn't express this reasoning; no one could know. It left him trapped, forced to go, having to remain silent when all he wanted to do was yell, shout, scream at the top of his lungs to anyone who would listen. His stomach churned with dread as he received the same answer, the one he was fearing.

"What's wrong buddy?" his dad asked after noticing his reluctance at his necessary attendance. "Why don't you want to go? I know it'll be hard for you..."

"That's not it," James cut him off gently, shaking his head in a slow, dismissive manner; the way he did every time he lied. "I just...don't feel good."

It wasn't a complete lie because just the thought of going and seeing _him _made him absolutely sick, almost violently so. His hands would begin to tremble and his stomach would ache. His skin would become feverish with nerves that no one could see. There was a whole other method of reaction to thoughts of this man but James preferred not to think about that on this particular day; despite how this particular day last year contributed to his sick, twisted other factor to this was three hours away, living with his dad, oblivious to his pain and suffering. James liked to blame Kendall for this habit, it made it easier to cope with his absence.

"We don't have to stay the whole time," his dad said a mix of worry and empathy in his deep voice. "but I think its important that we do go."

"I know," James replied in an understanding but unnoticeably morbid whisper. He knew he had to go, that this event meant the world to their family. He understood that; he really did. But no one understood his reluctance to go; everyone that it was about his mother, how it hurt too deeply to remember her. The truth couldn't be any further from that; he loved his mom and he thought about her every single day. Her death wasn't his excuse; avoiding _him _was. It wasn't someone he didn't want to remember; it was because of someone he didn't want to _see. _

* * *

Adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose, James observed the scene before him, the small crowd of family members gathering, exchanging words and embraces. Despite this own grief, everyone seemed to look at him with the utmost pain and sympathy. To lose a loved one was horrible; to lose a mother, that was practically traumatizing. Before all this, he loved attention, thrived off of it. It was an acknowledgement of how great he was. But now, after all that's happened, it's different. An excess of attention made his skin crawl, gave him the urge to run and hide, avoid all the pressing stares.

James was currently experiencing this feeling as his entire family watched him as if he was going to _break _any second. He offered a small, half-hearted smile at all the relatives greeting him. Each passing greeting increased his anxiety; it was just a matter of time before he ran into _him._ After all it was _his _sister they were commemorating. That fact made everything even more twisted. He tried and tried again to shove all that out of his mind but it just kept creeping back relentlessly. It was sick how the two worst days of his life fell within the same week.

_One year ago_

_He adjusted his tie for what seemed like the hundredth time; he had to do __**something **__to preoccupy his trembling hands. His attention soon shifted to the tightening in his throat as he struggled to hold back his tears, the sight of the funeral home reiterating what he didn't want to know. _

_Today he was attending his mom's funeral._

_Every seat was taken, a full house of friends and family to remember her. He was sitting in the front row, his dad to his right and his uncle (his mom's brother) to his left. By now, as fond stories were shared, James was unable to hold back his tears any longer, chest heaving with helpless sadness. A few tissues were crumpled up in his grip, absorbing the tears that poured down his face._

_It'd almost been surreal before, seeming as it hadn't happened but now it felt so real, the eulogy acting as morbid confirmation. He felt a strong hand squeeze his shoulder, intending to bring comfort. It was a nice gesture but he was fairly sure comfort was not something he could feel at the moment. _

_Seconds, minutes, maybe even an hour (time just seemed to blend now) later, he felt another hand (this time his uncle's) reach over, this time landing on his thigh. The initial touch meant nothing to him, thinking it was that innocent desire to provide comfort. But that changed when the older man slowly stroked his thumb across his thigh, hitting dangerously close to his hip. His breath hitched in sudden unease, body burning to shift away from these unwanted touches. _

_He dared to look over at the older man; his emotionless stare sent shivers down his spine. He forced his eyes away from the other's gaze, returning them to the front where the current speaker was tearing up at the story they were sharing. Despite his wavering attention, he tried to concentrate on the story but the hand on his thigh kept drawing it back. He couldn't get away from the touch that still lingered on his body; he could already feel his own hands beginning to tremble. He could almost __**hear **__his heart pounding in his ears, his nerves practically skyrocketing._

_His relief was practically audible when the older man finally removed his hand at the conclusion of the service. Everyone stood up, filing out of the stuffy funeral home, each one offering their condolences to him and his family. Mind filled with sorrow and confusion, James found himself not listening to their seemingly comforting words, staring off distantly instead. One thing brought him back though, stole him away from his morbid thoughts and returned him back to reality. __**Kendall. **_

_The blond boy had always been there for him and this was no exception. Kendall had truly been his anchor during this sudden storm and James knew he wouldn't be able to survive without Kendall by his side. _

"_Hey," Kendall said softly, face contorting in apologetic sorrow. Seeing the brunette like this truly tore him up inside. He wanted to be James' protector, keep him from ever feeling this low._

"_Hey," James returned, voice wavering drastically. There were tears welling up in his chocolate brown eyes, threatening to spill over any second. Right as they did, Kendall stepped forward, tightly wrapping his arms around James' waist, pulling him close. James locked his arms around Kendall's neck, __burying his face in the crook of his neck. He couldn't suppress the violent sobs that racked his body. He was more than grateful to have Kendall there holding him up._

_They seemed to remain in that embrace for the longest time, pulling away slowly minutes later. Kendall reached up to thumb away the tears that lingered on the other's cheeks, struggling to subdue his own tears. There was a deep ache in his chest, in his heart where he wished so desperately that James didn't have to know this pain. He'd do anything to never have to see James so broken ever again; he never wanted to see that many tears in his beautiful eyes ever again._

"_How're you holding up?" he asked gently, voice expressing his obvious worry and care. He brushed a few strands of hair from the other's face, heart skipping a beat at the small smile this action caused._

_James just shrugged, "I am, I guess."_

"_You know you can always come to me if you need __**any**__thing," he insisted, despite the fact that James was probably already well aware of this. _

_James nodded in understanding, unable to see just how much he would need Kendall in the next few months to come._

* * *

_Life was slowly returning to normal, or as normal as his life could ever be now. Since his mom's suicide less than a month ago, his life had been interrupted and he'd been trying his hardest to get it back on track ever since. That was easier said than done. He'd just gotten home from his first day returning to school since the accident; all his teachers were sympathetic and his principal had even called him down to his office to make sure he was doing okay. _

_And of course, his friends were there, holding him up and keeping him sane. The day couldn't seem to go fast enough though; he just wanted to go home, where he wouldn't have to worry about anything. _

_The second he'd gotten home, he traded his jeans for a pair of sweats and settled on his bed, intending to just relax and watch some TV. Before he could even turn it on, he heard the door bell ring from downstairs. With a heavy sigh, he rolled out of bed, jogging downstairs to answer the door. Apathetically, he swung the door open, trying to stifle the gasp bubbling in his throat. It was his uncle and ever since his mom's funeral, he'd been trying to avoid the older man. He convinced himself that the incident at the funeral was nothing; it didn't mean anything but it had still freaked him out a bit. The man stepped forward, walking past him and into the house._

"_My dad's not home yet," he said suddenly, knowing, hoping that was the reason for the older man's visit. _

"_I know," he replied, a slimy smirk tugging at his lips. "I came to see you."_

"_You know," James began, mentally cringing as his voice shook, exposing his obvious lie. "I was just heading over to Kendall's house." _

"_Okay," the man said simply, reaching behind him to push the door shut. He took another step towards the younger brunette, forcing him to take another step back to keep a normal distance. This action was repeated until James' back was against the door and his uncle was standing right before him. James' __breathing was erratic now, chest heaving dramatically with the increasingly difficult effort to pull air into his lungs. His whole body felt numb with fear and he found it impossible to move, despite how his mind was screaming at him to do so. He squeezed his eyes shut as he felt his uncle slip a hand under his black tank top. He tried to pretend he was somewhere else, anywhere but there right now. This proved impossible as his uncle moved his hand down to the waistband of his sweats. "Why are you so damn beautiful James?" _

_A fearful whimper left his lips as that hand slipped down even further, right past the waistband of his boxers. Silent tears rolled down his cheeks and he cursed his body for reacting to these unwanted touches. _

_After what felt like hours, when his uncle finally left, he somehow made his way upstairs to his bathroom. His hands trembled violently as he turned on the water. He didn't even bother getting undressed; he stepped into the shower fully dressed, sinking down against the tiles as the scalding hot water cascaded over his body. He sat there in the shower like that for hours, desperately trying to wash the filth away. _

_He never did make it to Kendall's house that afternoon. _

He snapped back to reality harshly, body aching with the remembrance of these events. He felt both his mental and physical reaction, his mind trying to block out this horrifying memories while his body reacted to the horrendous feelings afflicted his body. His eyes quickly darted around the room, spotting a trash can a few feet to his right. He ran over to it, just in time as he emptied what little content he had in his stomach. Over the sound of his own suffering, he could hear everyone gasping and their whispered concern. He felt a hand on his back and the sudden touch caused his to jump violently. He stood on unsteady legs, turning around to see that it was just his dad.

"Boy, you weren't kidding," he murmured, digging around in his pocket before pulling out the car keys and handing them over to his son. "Go wait in the car. I'll be there shortly and we can head home."

James nodded shakily and took the keys, slowly making his way back towards their car. He weaved his way through the huge parking lot, trying to remember where exactly they parked. He spotted their car a few rows over, his body stilling in fear as he noticed who was standing next to it. He squeezed his eyes shut and wished, desperately, that his eyes had just been playing a trick on him. Opening them again, he found that this was not the case. He debated running back into the building and finding his dad but his whole body refused to move. He just stood there, paralyzed with fear.

He didn't catch the gasp this time as a hand came down on his shoulder. However, he did manage to suppress the sigh forming in his chest when he saw that it was his dad. Relief flooded his system as they approached the car, subsequently the monster that plagued his nightmares at night and his reality during the day.

James didn't remember the conversation they had. They exchanged greetings but after that, he started to get incredibly dizzy and it felt like the ground was spinning beneath his feet. He swayed slightly, his dad taking this as an unintended cue. The second he got in the car, away from that man, his head cleared a little and his stomach was beginning to feel less nauseous. But unfortunately, he could not get the memories out of his mind; they continued torturing him the whole way home.

When they got home, his dad insisted he go right up to bed and James didn't argue. Sluggishly, he headed upstairs, entering the bathroom across from his bedroom. He shut the door behind him and immediately went over to the sink, yanking the very top drawer open. Tugging back his sleeve and ignoring the myriad of different cuts and scars, he took the small blade in his other hand, pressing it against his skin and willing all the horrible memories to fade away. After the first three cuts had proved ineffective, he tried again and again, finding that with the fourth and fifth cut, everything, including his memories, seemed to fade away.

* * *

The next thing he remembered was waking up in a hospital room. Guilt and regret crashed over him and he desperately wished he was somewhere else. He would be bombarded with questions and pressing stares; everyone wondering why he tried to kill himself. They would never leave him alone anymore; he was now under suspicion. Worst of all, no one knew the real suffering behind his actions. Everyone would just assume it was due to his mom's death. His chest ached deeply as he slowly opened his eyes, finding his bed surrounded by his friends and family. His dad and sister were there. Carlos and Logan too. His heart stopped at the fifth person standing by his bed. _No. It couldn't be. _

Shaggy blond hair and emerald eyes served as the confirmation he needed. He didn't know whether he wanted to fling himself into Kendall's arms or punch him in the face. It'd been six months since Kendall left to go live with his dad and in those six months, James life had gone from bad to worse. James wasn't exactly whole before Kendall left but he was broken into a million pieces after he left.

"James, what were you thinking?" his dad asked gently from his left. His eyes were red and puffy, obvious symbols that he had been worrying the whole time. That only made him feel worse.

"I don't know," he whispered through his own tears because lying was so much easier than confessing the whole truth.

Before anyone else could speak, a doctor was appearing in the doorway. requesting his father's presence in the hallway.

"Kendall," he whimpered, as if it was some cruel dream that brought the other's presence. It was almost surreal seeing him there. The boy in question moved from the foot of the bed to his left. He, too, had been worrying; his hair was messy and disheveled, his usually calm eyes dark with fear and worry.

"I'm here James," he spoke softly, reaching up to brush back James' hair.

The simple touch didn't alarm him like most did; it was sweet and gentle, providing such a rush of peace to sweep over his body. And suddenly, it all came rushing back to him: Kendall staying on the phone with him at night, waiting until he fell asleep, Kendall singing to him when he couldn't sleep at all, Kendall's gentle touch providing such a comfort that nothing else seemed to provide.

He scooted over in his bed, as if silently begging Kendall to lie down with him. The blond immediately took the cue and lied down in the space James created. He draped his arm over James' shoulders, allowing the brunette to settle against his side, his head resting on his chest. Kendall tried his hardest to ignore the white bandage wrapped around James' wrist. As if it was the most natural thing in the world, Kendall started to hum softly, the sweet melody slowly lulling James to sleep.

He looked down at the sleeping boy in his arms, nothing but devastation in his heart, wondering what had James so broken, what drove him to attempt suicide. Now more than ever he was starting to doubt his decision to move away. Something happened while he was gone, something that made James seek death as his only escape and he would never be able to forgive himself for not being there to protect James from whatever that was.

He glanced up from James' peaceful face, his gaze shifting to Logan who looked just as worried and scared as all of them. He knew it wasn't the smart boy's fault but he still couldn't help the anger that boiled in his blood.

"I never should've let you talk me into leaving him."

* * *

**A/N: that was supposed to be kind of ominous and cliff-hanger-esque. Let me know if I succeeded.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes: So here this is, two months late. It's not too long but I like to think its got a lot of substance. More on the Kames relationship and more on the Kendall/Logan dynamic and the feud between them. Enjoy.**

**Warnings: Molestation/Rape and Self-harm**

* * *

_James thought, for sure, that it was going to be the best night of his life. Him and Kendall had spent the whole night together, an unofficial date, of sorts. Neither boy had vocally expressed feelings yet but both were somehow aware of these feelings that existed between them. They were there with every glance, touch, every word spoken. _

_Carlos and Logan were out on a date themselves, which left him and Kendall. The blond suggested they go grab dinner then see a movie; James had to bite his tongue to keep from declaring it a date. It had gone better than any first date he'd been on, no awkward small talk, no uncertainty. Just two best friends having a good time together. _

_They were heading back now from the movie, towards James' house. Kendall had shut off his car and ran around the back to open his door. Demurely, he thanked the other boy and walked alongside him up to his porch. The butterflies in his stomach were telling him that Kendall was going to kiss him and he couldn't have been more excited about it. _

_Slowly, they made their way to his porch, both stopping and stalling as they stood before his door. _

"_I had fun Kendy," he said, glancing up at Kendall with sincere hazel eyes. _

_The blond boy chuckled lightly, meeting James' eyes with his own. "We always have fun Jamsey."_

_James smiled sweetly, "I know, we do," he agreed. "We should do this again."_

_And the smile Kendall gave him made his heart skip a beat, or two. "Definitely."_

* * *

Waking up that next morning, James felt extremely conflicted. Part of him wished it had all been a dream, that he had just dreamt that he had cut too deep and ended up in the hospital. The remaining part of him was grateful when he woke up in the hospital room that morning.

If it had been a dream, he would've woken up alone. He glanced over at the blond sleeping beside him and every bad thing seemed to just fade away. He forgot everything that wasn't Kendall, seeing only him. James couldn't be more appreciative of this calm Kendall somehow, effortlessly provided. It put his typically racing mind at ease. These days, with him gone, he was willing to take whatever relief he could get, however brief it was. Every bad thought that entered his mind was instantly negated merely by the blonde's presence.

Said blond was just stirring him sleep when the door to his room opened, his dad peeking in. His dad had always known about his feelings for Kendall and had never once expressed any discontent towards it. So it didn't particularly faze him when he discovered them sleeping in the same bed. After seeing how great Kendall had been with James after his mom died, Mr. Diamond was more than grateful towards the other boy,

"James?" the older man called softly, "A nurse is going to stop by soon and take you to see the hospital's therapist. I'm going to stop by the house real quick and I'll be back in a bit.

* * *

After nodding in understanding and watching his dad shut the door once again, he slipped back down beside the other boy, body facing towards him. With a shaking hand, he reached up to caress Kendall's cheek, breath hitching slightly at the warmth of Kendall's skin connecting with his fingers. "Thank god," he muttered, "I thought you were just a dream."

Kendall shook his head, reaching out and resting his hand on James' waist. He ignored the way James' body jolted slightly against his touch, brushing it off as early morning jitters. "No, I'm here."

Before any more words or touches could be exchanged, a nurse was popping her head in, announcing that it was time for James' appointed therapy session. At this declaration, James' stomach turned uneasily. Just the thought of talking about his problems made him absolutely sick. He nodded numbly at the nurse, not trusting his voice to carry his agreement. He turned back towards Kendall, meeting his green eyes with vulnerable hazel ones.

"Will you walk me down there Kendy?"

And the way James laced their fingers together and held on tightly the entire way made Kendall's heart crack. The tears in James' eyes when they departed absolutely _shattered_ it.

* * *

Since he wasn't allowed in there with James, despite how his protective side insisted he should be in there, he sat outside, waiting in the hallway the entire hour. Each minute that passed felt like an hour in itself. It was the single most torturous wait he'd ever endured in his life. His curiosity was practically _killing _him at the moment, dying to know what James was discussing with the therapist.

He didn't question it too long; he knew what they were talking about and it tore him apart, little by little. He knew why James slit his wrists; it was right in front of him the whole time. This particular time, it was like clockwork. It had been exactly a year since his mom's suicide. He knew how close James and his mom were and he knew losing her killed him inside.

This is why he didn't press the other boy for answers when he emerged an hour later, looking even worse than when he initially went in. Without having to be asked, he held his hand out to the other boy, who took it without a second's hesitation. No words were spoken as they headed back to James' room, the brunette would squeeze his hand a little tighter occasionally and he would squeeze right back, letting James know that he was there for him, always.

Everyone was there waiting when they returned, all silently asking questions that James didn't want to answer.

"So how'd it go?" Logan asked as James crawled back into bed.

"Fine," the brunette mumbled, his meek voice barely audible.

Logan was the smart one of the group; there was no doubt about it. But sometimes, where he excelled at book smarts, he lacked street smarts and the ability to read people and their emotions. So instead of noticing James' extreme discomfort on the particular subject, he persisted. "Did you talk through it? Do you feel better?"

Being completely enamored with the other boy, practically attached at the hip when they were together, Kendall could easily sense this, knowing that Logan's persistent questions were making James extremely uncomfortable. "Logan," he hissed, sending the smart boy a glare. "Give him some space, okay?"

This outburst seemed to stop Logan right in his tracks, putting an end to all the questions that James didn't want to answer. What Kendall didn't know was just how much Logan _did _know about the situation. And since the last time James and Kendall had seemed each other, nothing had changed. Kendall's absence hadn't done a damn thing to the way James depended on the other boy. No one else but him saw it; no one else but him knew how dangerous it could be, how detrimental it was to his healing process. James still needed Kendall to the point where it was unhealthy and Kendall was still too blind to this, unknowingly enabling him.

* * *

The worst part of the day came in the evening, when visitor hours were drawing nearer. The previous night it hadn't mattered because the nurses were nice enough to let him stay. But that couldn't happen tonight. He had to leave; he was driving back to his dad's tonight, having to be in school the following day. He had to leave James and the thought absolutely broke his heart. Even more so when James looked up at him with teary eyes, begging him not to go, begging him not to leave him.

Kendall reached down, thumbing away the tears rolling down his cheeks and leaned forward to press his lips against James' forehead. "Call or text me whenever you want, okay? I'm going to have my phone on me at all times."

Kendall said goodbye one last time, turning away and not looking back, knowing that he had to go and even one glance back would crumble his resolve. His hands were just itching to comfort James, caress his cheek and tell him that everything would be okay, that he would be there always. But he had to leave again.

And just when Kendall thought he couldn't feel any worse, Logan stopped him on his way out, having witnessed his promise to be there for James whenever he needed via text or phone call. He leaned in, speaking so quietly that Kendall barely heard him. But he had and the words that left Logan's lips infuriated him more than the fact that he had to leave.

"Kendall, I really don't think it's a good idea for him to call or text you," Logan advised, rushing his words, as if knowing Kendall wasn't going to like them. "It's not healthy for him."

Kendall bit his lip for a second, struggling to keep them from turning up in a snarl. He composed himself the best he could but his anger seeped into his voice as he spoke anyways. "Considering what happened last time I listened to you, I'm not going to make _that_ mistake again."


End file.
